


On The Cutting Room Floor: Part Two

by Snooky



Category: Hogan's Heroes (TV 1965)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28151133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snooky/pseuds/Snooky
Summary: More missing scenes that never quite made it to air. In some cases, for a good reason. COMPLETE-originally published on fanfiction.net in 2010
Comments: 5
Kudos: 2





	On The Cutting Room Floor: Part Two

Title: **On the Cutting Room Floor, part two**  
Category: TV Shows » Hogan's Heroes  
Author: snooky-9093  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: K  
Genre: Humor/General  
Published: 03-19-10, Updated: 02-09-11  
Chapters: 8, Words: 3,858

* * *

**Chapter 1: Let's Just Say We're Even**

* * *

Somehow, these things just pop into my head!

A missing piece of correspondence from "The Flame Grows Higher"

_Dear Jenny and Willie,_

_Please accept my apologies for scaring the two of you half to death. In our line of work, you can't be too careful. But, looking back, I was particularly nasty._

_Thank you for asking about my health. Our medic says my headache should go away in a few days; and yes, my men have been waking me up every 2 hours._

_I've enclosed some marks. (They are real.) That should cover the chair and the bottle of aspirin._

_Regarding the two ladies that we spoke of, I have heard that the inn has been put up for sale._

_We will be in touch._

_Please destroy this message._

_Sincerely,_

_Colonel Robert E. Hogan_

* * *

**Chapter 2: Is There a Doctor in the House?**

* * *

A missing scene from: "Get Fit or Go Fight"

"Come right in, Doctor. I'm ready for you."

Hogan, clad in a bathrobe and white shirt, and wearing one of Klink's monocles over his left eye, turned around. The doctor, a major, was all business.

"Please take off your shirt," he ordered. He then glanced up at Hogan, and stared for a moment. "You don't look your age, which is 49, I believe."

"It's my work. It keeps me young. I expect my guards and prisoners to be disciplined and fit." Hogan picked up a riding crop and whacked it against the desk, startling the major. "And I won't have the guards do anything that I wouldn't do."

"But the guard outside?"

"His loyalty cannot be questioned." Hogan shook his head. "Special case," he whispered, "But we keep him on."

"I see. Your clothing…"

Hogan removed the bathrobe and shirt.

The major listened to Hogan's heart and lungs without comment, and then asked Hogan to sit down. He removed a hammer from his bag, and whacked Hogan's knees. "Reflexes, excellent."

"I assumed they would be," Hogan replied. He rubbed his sore knees.

The major silently removed a rolled up sheet from his bag, and tacked it up on the wall.

"An eye chart? There is nothing wrong with my eyesight," Hogan said.

"Stand there," The major pointed. "Cover your left eye and read the fourth line."

Hogan did so perfectly.

"Good. Now cover the other eye, and read the same line."

Hogan removed the monocle, which was blurring the vision in his left eye. The eye was also beginning to tear, and he was now developing a headache; most likely from the abuse the muscles holding the monocle in place were taking.

"Why did you do that?" The doctor asked.

"I assume you wanted to test my vision without a corrective lens."

"What do we care if you wear glasses, a monocle, or goggles for that matter? You aren't flying. Put it back in."

"Of course, Major." Hoping to memorize the fourth line, Hogan quickly peeked at the chart. He replaced the monocle, and quickly recited the line.

"Heart still beating; check. Lungs clear; check. Pressure normal; check. Eyes, brown. Good."

"Well, Major, did I pass?" Trying to look bored and unconcerned, Hogan sat down behind the desk and put on his best impression of a calm, aristocratic, and authoritative officer… the exact opposite of Klink.

"Yes, Kommandant." The major opened the door. "I'll be sending in the report. One more thing…"

Hogan stood up. "Yes? What is it?"

"You could stand to lose a few pounds." The major left the office, and walked past Schultz without saying another word.

"Colonel Hoooogaaan!" Schultz hustled into the office.

"Help me get changed, Schultz, before Klink comes back. Wait, one second. Question…"

"What is it?"

In all sincerity, Hogan asked, "Do you think this outfit makes me look fat?"

* * *

**Chapter 3: Happy To See Ya, Wouldn't Want To Be Ya**

* * *

From: "A Bad Day in Berlin"

Top Secret Transmissions

To: Major Hans Teppel, Abwehr, Berlin

From: General Hoganmueller, location: classified

Thought you might be interested in the enclosed brochure. My brother-in-law can get you a good rate on a term policy or an annuity. Hope you enjoy the enclosed tin of pistachios.

To: General Hoganmueller

From: Hans Teppel

I might take you up on the info you sent. Hear a purge is imminent. Any chance you can put me up for a few nights? Loved the pistachios. Right back at you!

To: Major Teppel

From: General Hoganmueller

Sure, Call our booking agent.

To: Papa Bear

From: Morrison

Thanks for the hospitality. London is foggy.

To: Morrison

From: PB

You owe me twice!

To: PB

From: Morrison

I called your brother-in-law. We're even!

* * *

**Chapter 4: No Badge for You**

* * *

A Missing Scene from "Hogan and the Lady Doctor"

"He won't forget," Carter told LeBeau and Newkirk after they had safely returned to camp, and saw Suzanne comfortably settled in the tunnels.

"Don't worry 'bout it. It all turned out in the end." Newkirk dismissed Carter's guilt with a pat on the back.

"I don't know." LeBeau looked worried. "It almost cost us the mission."

"Yeah. Boy, if we hadn't floored the truck." Carter drew his hand across his neck.

"You two worry too much. Besides, with you know who down there…well, if you ask me, I bet the guv'nor is a bit preoccupied." Newkirk winked.

Hogan, as Newkirk had said, was temporarily preoccupied. He was in the middle of making Suzanne comfortable…on the neck…and on the lips. "I have to go," he whispered as she kissed him again. "There's something I have to take care of."

"Je comprends." She kissed him again. "Go. I'll be fine."

Hogan headed into the tunnels.

"Where's the Colonel?" Carter, who was seated at the table in the barracks, asked Kinch.

"He headed over to another barracks for something." Kinch shut the bunk entrance. "Said he would be back in a few minutes."

Hogan returned through the bunk entrance a few minutes later. He was followed by a sergeant.

"Carter, LeBeau, Newkirk…In my office," he ordered. The three men, as well as the sergeant, entered the room. Hogan shut the door.

"You three. This is Sergeant Leonard. From Barracks 14."

"Hi." Carter gave a tentative wave.

"We've met," Newkirk replied cheerfully. "At a Barracks Chief's meeting."

"Were we in the infirmary together?" LeBeau asked. "With that flu?"

Leonard nodded.

"Sergeant Leonard was…And I don't think you were aware of this…a drill sergeant." Hogan chuckled. "And an Eagle Scout. Isn't that great?" He glared at Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau. The three of them now looked confused and a bit uncomfortable.

"Well?" Hogan raised his voice.

"Lovely." Newkirk answered, while Carter laughed nervously.

LeBeau finally found his voice. "What does this have to do with us?"

"Sergeant. They're all yours." Hogan smiled and pointed to the common room.

"You three! In the tunnels," Leonard commanded. Not wanting to draw the attention of any of the guards, the sergeant didn't yell, but he obviously meant business. The three men stood there, dumbfounded.

"You heard the man," Hogan said. "In the tunnels." He pointed to the bunk.

This time, the three complied.

"Um." Carter raised his hand a few moments later. "Can you, um, tell us what this is all about?"

"Did I give you permission to speak!" Leonard yelled in Carter's face.

"Uh, no." Carter backed up.

"Now wait one minute!" Newkirk protested. "You can't yell at him like that."

"And why is that?" Leonard sneered.

LeBeau took one step forward, and stood right in Leonard's face. "Because he outranks you, that's why." He stepped back.

"Oh." Leonard turned to Carter. "You know, I should have realized. You're a tech sergeant."

Carter relaxed. "Yes. As a matter of fact…"

**"I DON'T CARE!"**

Carter jumped back. "LeBeau," he hissed. "You got me in trouble."

"C'mon…What's this about? This isn't boot camp. Cigarette?" Newkirk offered. Leonard flicked it out of Newkirk's hand. "'Ey." Newkirk bent down, retrieved the cigarette and stuck it back in the pack.

"What is this about? This is about how you three almost blew a mission because **you couldn't remember how to tie a knot!"**

"Told you he wouldn't forget." Carter gave both Newkirk and LeBeau a satisfied look.

"Well," LeBeau began to explain. "We were in a hurry, and there were two."

"They must've untied one another," Carter continued.

**"NO EXCUSES!"** Leonard then went over to a table and retrieved several strands of rope. "You're going to tie and untie, try to get free, and tie again… even if all three of you are wriggling all over the tunnel floor like worms… until you get it right. You two…" He pointed at LeBeau and Carter. "You're the Germans. Newkirk…Here." He tossed the Englishman the rope. "Get moving." You have one minute." He pulled out a stopwatch. "Go!"

The two guinea pigs got loose in less than ten seconds.

"Pathetic." Leonard shook his head. "Now watch." 30 seconds later, both LeBeau and Carter were, indeed, wriggling around on the floor like worms.

"Um. I'm losing circulation here." Carter whimpered, as he continued working on LeBeau's hands.

"You're making it worse. Stop." LeBeau rolled out of the way.

"Shut up or I'll gag ya," Leonard answered. "Keep going."

Newkirk, who was beginning to enjoy his friends' distress, started cheering them on. "Try standing up," he suggested.

"How?" Carter asked. Both his feet and LeBeau's feet were out of commission.

"Use the wall." Leonard said. "Pretend it's a tree."

5 minutes later, Carter cried uncle. LeBeau, meanwhile, sulked in a corner.

"Oh for pete's sake," Newkirk laughed. "You should be able to get out of that. What if you get caught?"

"Okay, smartass," LeBeau snarled. "You try."

"Bring it on!" Newkirk waved and laughed again. "I'm a regular escape artist." He turned to Leonard. "When I was at the Palladium…"

"I'm not interested in show business, Corporal."

Ten minutes later, Newkirk, like his compatriots, was wriggling on the floor. "You're now in front of the firing squad." Leonard, who was inches from Newkirk's face, pointed out to the now embarrassed, former entertainer.

"I do admit," Newkirk panted, "you know your knots."

Leonard cut the three loose. "Stand up." The three, rubbing their sore wrists, slowly picked themselves up." Do I have to teach this in slow motion? Like you're a bunch of Girl Scouts?" (1)

"You mean Girl Guides." Newkirk said under his breath.

"Shut your mouth," LeBeau hissed.

"We speak American English in this here camp." Leonard spat at Newkirk.

Carter held back a laugh.

"You think I'm funny?" Leonard screamed.

"No, sir."

"Good." Leonard threw Carter a rope. "Now get back to work."

Several hours later, with only a few minutes to spare before roll call, the three sheepishly crawled back into the barracks, rubbing their sore wrists and grumbling about their bruised egos.

The amused looks from their barrack mates only gave them more reason to wish they had not been born.

"To think we volunteered for this," Newkirk complained as he limped over to his bunk.

"Don't get comfortable," Olsen warned him. "Roll call's coming up."

"I hope you are all satisfied. I'm too sore to cook." LeBeau went looking for the first aid kit.

"I'm suing my scout leader when I get home." Carter looked at Kinch, who was attempting to hide his mirth. "Don't you dare laugh," Carter whined. "It's not funny."

"What's the matter, Carter? At the end of your rope?" Kinch replied with a straight face.

"Their nerves are frayed," Mills quipped. The men in the common room began to laugh.

"That's enough." Newkirk glared at everyone. "You've 'ad your fun. We almost blew it and we learned our lesson."

"What's going on in here that's so amusing?" Hogan had emerged from his office and was in the process of zipping up his jacket. "Oh. You three are back. Have a nice evening?"

"Obviously not what we expected after the mission, sir," Carter replied. He then looked confused, as the room again broke out in laughter.

"All right, can it. Show some restraint," Hogan ordered. The laughter continued and then abruptly stopped as Hogan gave the men a signal.

* * *

"You're all set. The Underground will meet you at the end of the tunnel. Here are your papers."

"Thank you, Colonel." Suzanne took the wallet. "I heard you were a little harsh with the three men who came with the other night."

Hogan grinned. "Yes. But it was important to reinforce their training. They didn't get captured on purpose, you know. We sort of fell into this. The camp, the Kommandant…

"You mean it dropped into your lap." Suzanne replied innocently.

Hogan groaned. "Okay. This has to stop."

"I apologize. I now turn the command of this unit back over to you. There should be some kind of ceremony. Non?

"Bien sûr" Hogan moved in closer. "I have a meeting with Klink. But I have a minute."

"Your accent is terrible." Suzanne laughed and then kissed Hogan on the cheek. "We're even." She walked over to the ladder. "Be careful. And your men, as well."

"We'll do our best." Hogan watched as the doctor climbed up the ladder and then headed up to the barracks and out the door.

"Colonel…Wait," LeBeau ran out and yelled. "You've got…" Hogan didn't hear the corporal. "Merde.."

"Colonel Hogan's got what, Louis?" Carter asked when LeBeau came back into the barracks.

LeBeau shook his head, and then replied, "Lipstick on his cheek."

* * *

(1) No offense intended to those former Girl Scouts or Girl Guides

* * *

**Chapter 5: Just Desserts**

* * *

A missing scene from "No Names Please"

New York, NY

Affiliated Newspaper Alliance Headquarters

"Hey, we're looking for Walter Hobson," a man dressed in a suit and dark overcoat asked the first person he came to in the newsroom, a harried looking teenager who was carrying a stack of files.

"Sorry, you have to speak louder," the boy yelled. "I didn't hear you. It's pretty noisy in here." The din of the teletype machines and the click clack of the typewriters almost drowned the kid's answer.

"We are looking for a reporter. Walter Hobson." This time the second man answered…and this time the kid heard.

The boy turned and glanced around the newsroom. "There he is. In with the editor." He pointed to an office that looked over the large area where the reporters sat.

"Thanks," the second man said. The two walked over to the office and barged in without knocking.

"Hey. What do you think you're doing?" the man seated at the desk shouted.

"You the editor?" the first man asked calmly.

"Yeah, I'm the editor. What do you want?"

"Hobson. We're looking for him," the man answered. The guys downstairs said he works up here."

"I'm Hobson." The reporter turned and faced the two men.

"You're the Hobson who wrote the story about the "Unsung Heroes?" The second man asked.

The reporter's face brightened. "Yes, that was me," he replied proudly. "What a scoop that was!"

The editor nodded. "Kept after those guys, even when he was hurt, and came back with a story. Beat UPI and the AP!"

"I have to admit, that was a coup." The second man appeared to agree. "Say, how did you get the material past the Office of Censorship?"

"You know, I don't know. Slipped by them I guess. They got a lot on their plate. So what do you two want? You're not here to steal away one of my top reporters, are you?" the editor asked suspiciously.

"No, sir. You know, those unsung heroes aren't happy that you broke that story. We're from the FBI." Both of the men whipped out their ID's. "You're coming with us. We're here to arrest you and your top reporter for publishing a military secret."

A/N I always thought this episode was implausible. (Not that the rest of the show wasn't!) I don't think any correspondent in his right mind would have revealed anything. But, that's show biz!

_"During World War II, the American press happily submitted to a voluntary censorship of domestic stories. Editors regularly excised anything that could harm the war effort or U.S. morale, including grisly combat dispatches or photos. According to Michael S. Sweeney's book_ _Secrets of Victory_ _, no print journalist deliberately broke the censorship code, and only one radio broadcaster, KFUN in Las Vegas, N.M., ever rumbled with the government censors."_

"Full Metal Junket The myth of the objective war correspondent."

_By_ _Jack Shafer_

Posted Wednesday, March 5, 2003, at 7:30 PM ET

/id/2079703/

* * *

**Chapter 6: Because you asked for it!**

* * *

The prisoner, dressed in a dingy suit, hat and tie, looked back at the place he had unfortunately called home for the last several years. He had nothing to go home to. His wife had divorced him; his siblings were embarrassed, and would no longer speak to him. Hell, at this point, he was sure his dog would bite him. No wait, his wife got the dog, as well as the house. He sighed. None of this was his fault, he told himself. After all, it was the chain of command that screwed up. Not him. And now look what he had to show for it. No awards, no medals, no accolades from his peers. No, just a messed-up man looking for a new career.

He paid for a taxi with money the court system had given him that morning. Fortunately, his lawyer had found him a furnished studio apartment in town, so he didn't have to stoop to waiting in a bus station for a long distance ride from hell.

Now he had to face looking for work. That he would do the next day. Today, he planned on drowning his sorrows in a beer and take-out Chinese food. Carrying a small suitcase, he trudged up three flights and then down a dark hallway to his new home.

It was several hours later, when he was seated at a card table, contemplating his bad luck and the rest of the chicken chow mein, that he heard a knock at the door. He ignored it at first, but the visitor was persistent. The knock was harder the second time. "Hold your horses. I'm coming."

He opened the door to find an unidentified man dressed in a sharp suit and nice looking hat. The light was bad in the hall, so he couldn't see the visitor's face. "Yeah, what do you want?" he asked in a real grouchy voice.

"You Walter Hobson?"

"In the flesh," the man replied without thinking.

Next thing he knew he was on the floor. Hobson had been decked. Solidly, with a right uppercut.

"What did you do that for?" he said a few moments later, after he caught his breath. Crawling to his feet, and rubbing his jaw, he stared at the attacker. Soon the identity registered. "Hogan?"

"In the flesh, Hobson. I warned you not to tell. You could have had us all killed. Oh, and don't even think of pressing assault charges." At that, Hogan turned around, left the apartment and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

**Chapter 7: Travel Insurance**

* * *

_Missing correspondence from "Guess Who Came to Dinner"_

December 24, 1947

To: Wilhelm Klink

From: Robert Hogan

Enclosed are airplane tickets and hotel reservations for Palm Springs. Merry Christmas.

* * *

To: Robert Hogan

From: Wilhelm Klink

Congratulations on your promotion. I cannot accept this gift. I appreciate it, but it must have cost a fortune.

* * *

To: Wilhelm Klink

From: Robert Hogan

Don't worry about the cost. It's from me and the boys. We sold the rights to the story and can easily afford it. Besides, it's the least we can do.

* * *

To: Robert Hogan

From: Wilhelm Klink

In that case, I will accept. Hilda and I will be on the next plane out. Please join us for drinks and a game of golf.

* * *

To: Wilhelm Klink

From: Robert Hogan

I accept your invitation. By the way, I won't be alone. Do you remember Heidi Eberhardt? She was the woman who passed on information about Otto von Krubner's factory. That wasn't a real Gestapo agent, and we hooked up after the war.

* * *

To: Robert Hogan

From: Wilhelm Klink

I suppose that wasn't a real piece of cake, either.

* * *

**Chapter 8: Contractors are Hard to Come By**

* * *

_What we heard when we eavesdropped!_

_After "Nights in Shining Armor"_

"London…Papa Bear is not happy that you made fun of one of his cubs."

_"We weren't making fun of the cub…Papa Bear. We just had a bit of a laugh, shall we say."_

"London…That was a totally appropriate and reasonable request. Besides, it's not polite to laugh at the messenger."

_Pause_

_"You are correct Papa Bear. Please extend our apologies to the messenger."_

"Apology accepted. Now about my request!"

_Laughter._

"London?"

_"Sorry, Papa Bear. We are serious. You asked for a plumber."_

"That is correct."

_"To be dropped into Germany, and quote, unquote, processed into your den?"_

"Exactly. You have the means."

_"Look. We can supply a forger, metal worker, a miner... sorry, no engineers...and a movie star."_

"NO MOVIE STARS!"

_"Sorry. Why in heaven's name do you need a plumber? Do you have any idea what they charge?"_

"Licensed plumber."

_"Sorry. Licensed plumber. Don't they have a maintenance team servicing your den?"_

"Affirmative. But their plumber was transferred East."

_"Most of our contractors are in service to the Army Corps of Engineers. They don't take kindly to being pulled off a job, you know."_

"London. We have a sink problem."

_Audible sigh. "What kind of sink problem?"_

"They're disconnected. And covering up tunnel entrances. Let's put it this way. There's no running water in a lot of caves, and some other places I won't mention. If someone who shall remain nameless decides to give the sinks a tug….we're up a creek without a paddle."

_"So you started a job, but couldn't finish it?"_

"Well, London, it's jobs, plural and it is complicated. And our cub was only a plumber's helper."

_"Uh huh."_

"All that money you've invested in us and our little circus!"

_Sigh." Acknowledged, Papa Bear. We will endeavor to fulfill your request."_

"Good. And now one more thing."

_"Yes."_

"We've got stove problems. Can you send someone from heating?"

* * *

I always wondered about the sinks. And the stoves. In "Nights in Shining Armor" The Stalag 13 plumber was transferred to the Russian Front. Kinch mentions he was a helper one summer, and so he is able to cause a problem in Klink's bathroom. But I recall seeing sinks hiding tunnel entrances in more than one episode. Stoves as well.


End file.
